THE Innocent Mistress A COMEDY As it was ACTED by His MAJESTY's Servants AT THE THEATRE in Little-Lincolns-Inn-Fields Written by Mrs. Mary Pix LONDON Printed by J. Orme for R. Basset at the Miter within Temple-Bar and F. Cogan in the Inner-Templelane 1697. Names Represented Mr. Betterton Sir Charles Beauclair first a Younger Brother marri'd by his Friends to a Rich ill-favour'd Widow afterwards Master of a great Estate and in Love with Bellinda Mr. Verbruggen Sir Francis Wildlove his Friend Mr. Knap Searchwell his Man Mr. Hodgson Beaumont an honest Country Gentleman Friend to Sir Francis and Lover of Arabella Mr. Bowman Spendall a Sharper and hanger on to Sir Charles Mr. Freeman Lywell a Rake Companion to Spendal Mr. Bowen Cheatall a very foolish Fellow Brother to the Lady Beauclair Mr. Harris Gentil his Man an Ingenious Fellow Mr. Underhill Mr. Flywife alias Allen a Merchant WOMEN Mrs. Barry Bellinda alias Mariamne Daughter to the Lord Belmour Mrs. Bracegird Mrs. Beauclair Niece to Sir Charles Mrs. Prince Arabella a young Lady left to the Care of Cheatall's Father Mrs. Lee. Lady Beauclair an ill bred Woman Mrs. Howard Peggy her Daughter of the same Stamp Mrs. Lawson Eugenia the Lady Beauclair's Woman Mrs. Betty Woman to Bellinda Mrs. Du Qua. Dresswell Woman to Mrs. Beauclair Mrs. Lassel Mrs. Flywife kept by Flywife and going by his Name Mrs. Willis Jenny her Maid Drawers and Servants PROLOGUE Spoken by Mr. Verbruggen Written by Mr. Motteux THIS season with what Arts both Houses strive By your kind presence to be kept alive W' have still new things or old ones we revive We plot and strive to bring them first o' th' Stage Like wary Pilot for his Weather-gage W' have Every Act and every week a Play Nay w' have had new ones studied for one Day W' have double Duty and w' have but half Pay VV ' have scaling Monkies and w' have dancing Swans To match our nimble cap'ring Chairs and Stands There Opera's with and here without Machines Here Scenes well wrought and there well painted Scenes Castles and Men i' th' Air the World l'th' Moon Where you like Swallows fly but soon y' are gone W've something ev'ry different Taste to hit I gad I think w' have ev'ry thing but Wit For w' have full Scenes and w' have an empty Pitt Faith Sirs we scarce cou'd hope you here wou'd be So num'rous tho' we have a new Comedy For there 's in Plays you know a Reformation A thing to which y' have no great inclination I fear you 'll seek some loser Occupation From those Lewd Poets all these mischiefs flow They like Drawcansirs maul'd both Friend and Foe Wou'd they 'd been serv'd like their Plays long ago All cautious Dons and Matrons hence they scar'd And all this did they do because they dar'd Yet that you 're hardn'd Sinners they may boast The more they lash'd you you seem'd tickled most But now no Luscious Scenes must lard their Plays No Lady now will need to hide her face But I 'll be hang'd if one i' th' Gallery stays To hear ill-natur'd Truths no more you 'll sit But mortifie an inoffensive Wit Lord how still we shall have you in the Pit For I dare say of what mâ—…st pleas'd our Guests Nine parts in Ten were still sheer Bawdy Jests Methinks I see some here who seem to say Gad e're the Curtain 's drawn I 'll slip away No Bawdy this can't be a Women's Play Nay I confess there 's Cause enough to doubt But Faith they say there was a deal cut out Then stay and use it gently some of you Since to be maim'd y' are somewhat subject too Spare it you who for harmless sports declare Show that this age a modest Play can bear Twice has our Poetess kind usage found Change not her Fortune tho' she cang'd her Ground EPILOGUE Spoken by Mr. Scudamore Written by Mr. Motteux SSriblers like Bullies sometimes huff the Pitt Tho their feign'd Courage has an Ague Fit But oftner from a sense of their Condition An Epilogue resembles a Petition Thus they make Mr. Bays his Notion just If Thunder cannot save them Halters must Which way to use I swear I do not know Hussing's too haughty Cringing is too low I 'll use the middle way perhaps 't will do At least I fancy 't is most lik'd by you Thus then to ev'ry Judge of Wit I bow I hope all the Audience think I mean them now If so you 'll scorn to judge of Woman's Wit Tho' in Wit 's Court the worst of Judges sit Sure none dare try such puny Causes yet Faith if you 're strict now there 's a Reformation We 've sworn t' invite the grave part of the Nation Rich Sparks with broad-brim-hats and little Bands who 'll clap dry Morals till they hurt their Hands Nice Dames who 'll have their Box as they 've their Pew And come each Day but not to ogle you No each side Box shall shine with sweeter Faces None but Chains Gowns and Coiâ—…s shall havetheir Places Their Chit-chat News Stockjobbing and Law-Causes The Middle-Fry shall in the Gall'ry sit And humh whatever against Cuckold's Writ And City Wives from Lectures throng the Pit Their Daughters Fair with Prentice trudge it hither And throng as they do Lambeth-Wells this weather Then all thus stor'd tho' Money 's scarce this Age We need not fear t' have a Beau-crowded Stage So for new guests we 'll change just as our Beauâ—… Wear Doyly-Stuff for want of better Cloths ACT I. Sir Francis Wildlove in his Chamber Dressing Sir Fran. SEarchwell Search Sir Sir Fran. Get me some Small Beer and dash a little Langoone in it else 't will go down my burning Stomach ten degrees colder than Ice I should have met my old Friend and Collegian Beaumont who came to Town last night but Wine and Women drove it clear out of my Head Search Sir he 's here Enter Beaumont Sir Fran. Welcome dear Friend I prithee pardon my omission faith 't was business that could not be left to other hands Beau. Women I suppose and that excuse I know a Man of your kidney thinks almighty Sir Fran. Even so well by my Life I am heartily glad to see you why thou hast been an age consin'd to barren Fields and senceless Groves or Conversation stupid and dull as they How canst thou waste thy Youth happy Youth the very Quintessence of Life from London this dear Epitome of pleasure Beau. Because excess of drinking cloys my Stomach and Impudence in Women absolutely turns it then I hate the vanity of Dress and Fluttering where eternal Noise and Nonsence reigns this consider'd what should I do here Sir Fran. Not much in troth Beau. But you my Friend run the Career your appetite directs taste all those pleasures I despise you can inform me what humour 's most in fashion what ruling whim and how the Ladies are Sir Fran. Why faith there 's no great alteration the Money is
Father Have you not heard of the Death of my Lord Belmour's Heir and absence of his only Daughter Mariamne Sir Fran. Yes yes Beau. The old Lord has given me her Picture with an earnest Petition that I wou'd endeavour to find her he prest me so I cou'd not refuse it though I have small probability of my side Sir Fran. She 's now a prodigious Heiress what cou'd be the meaning of running from all her Friends Beau. Too Studious for her Sex and sell upon the Seducers of the Women Plays and Romances from thence she form'd her self a Hero a Cavilier that could Love and talk like them whilst her Father without consulting her provided a Husband Rich but wanting all Scudries Accomplishments this Man she call'd Monster and finding the Marriage unavoidable took her Jewels and what Money was in her Power and in the Stage-Coach fled to this Populous Wilderness if that can be proper for here we are in Crowds conceal'd as well as in a Desart Sir Fran. 'T was strange Sir Char. I pity her for I hate an Innocent inclination crost Enter Servant Serv. Sir your Coach is ready Sir Fran. Allons Gentlemen Exeunt Scene Bellinda's Apartment appears with a Böok Bell. In vain I fly to Books the tuneful Numbers give me not a moments ease In vain I 've strove to walk in Virtues high unerring Paths blind rash inconsiderate Love has pusht me from the blissfull state and sixt me strugling ' midst ten thousand dangers Here sweet Bard thou suites me well Enter Mrs. Beaue Opening the Book My anxious houâ—…s roul heavily away Dâ—…priv'd of Sleep by Night or Peace by Day Mrs. Beau. Poor disconsolate Damosel come leave this soft melancholly Poetry it nurses your Disease Bell. You indeed like a bright Ray of comfort shoot through my endlessnight where 's my dear destruction Mrs. Beau. Mr Spendall said he would be here at noon Bell. He 's ever here I feel himbusie at my Heart and when the wisht minute of his approach comes on every Artery catches the Convulsive Joy Dost not thou think me mad Mrs. Beau. A little crais'd or so my dear Bell. Bedlam o're this had been my proper mansion if your sweet Company had not composed my jarring thoughts and given the warring Torments Intervals of rest Mrs. Beau. I must confess tho I am wild to the very verge that Innocence allows yet when my Uncle that dear good man told me if e'er I meant to oblige him I must be a Companion Friend and Lover of his Mistress The proposition startled me but then I did not think there had been such a Mistress as my Bellinda nor Platonick Love in real practice Bell. True my dear Friend our Love is to the Modern Age unpractic'd and unknown yet so strict and so severe are rigid Honour's Laws that tho' not grosly yet we still offend had not Fate fixt a bar unpassable between us how shou'd I'have blest the accident that brought us first acquainted Mrs. Beau. You never told me the Story Bell. In short 't was thus coming from the Play mask'd with a Young Lady a fluttering Fellow seized me and spight of my intreaties grew rudely troublesome I was never used to such Behaviour and it throughly frighted me Sir Charles being near saw my unfeigned concern and generously made the Brute desist then led me safely to a Coach observing where I bid the Coachman drive he came to wait upon me my fair Friend agen was with me and 't was by her perswasions that I saw him we found his conversation nicely civil and full of Innocent delight I blush'd and fondly thought this man my Amorous Stars in kindness destin'd for my happiness but oh Mrs. Beau. But Oh he was married and that spoiled all Bell. Therein I only can accuse him of deceit He kept his marriage a satal Secret till I had lost the power to banish him Mrs. Beau. I prithee dear Bedinda where wer 't thou bred I 'm sure this Lewd Town never gave you such nice notions of honour Bell. My Friendship bars you of nothing but enquiring who I am Mrs. Beau. 'T is true I beg your Pardon and am silent Bell. Only this I 'll tell you Madam and as a warning never resolve although you think it fully in your power to keep your resolution Mark it in me I that thought to have stood the fairest pattern of my Sex and would have blotted all the annals of guilty Love yet now am lost fonder of my Beauclair than of Family or Fame yet know him married and Divine and humane Laws against me Mrs. Beau. For Humane Laws I know not what to say but sure Heaven had no concern 't was a detested match Ruling Friends and Curst A arice joyned this unthinking youth to the worst of Women But no more of this how dye like your new Lodgings The House is very large have you no good Neighbours Bell. You know 't is not my way to be acquainted my impertinet maid sometimes teases me with a relation of a Merchant and pretty Lady who came from the Indies and Lodge here Mrs. Beau. What are they Mrs. Betty Bett. Nay my Lady will ne'er hear me out but I 'm sure they are worth any Bodies observation he looks like a Surly Old Rich Cuff and she like an Intriguing Beautiful Jilt as sine as a Queen covered with Jewels Bell. Ha' done with your Description I 'm sick of 'em both Mrs. Beau. Lord you are so peevish pray give me leave to ask Mrs â—…etty little more Questions about 'em what 's his name Bett. An odd one Madam they call him Mr. Flywife Mrs. Beau. An odd one indeed and contradicting his Actions when 〈◊〉 a fine Dame belongs to him Bell. Thou art a little Gossip to trouble thy head with other peoples Affairs I heard news of yoh Madam the other day they say you are in Love for all your seeming indifference Mrs. Beau. Yes introth I am a little that way inclined but my Spark is indeed too far from your Cassandra rules his Mistresses are neither Angels nor Godesses truly Sr Francis Wildlove is too mad even for me tho' the Devil 's in 't I can't forbear thinking of the Rambler Bell. Your Vertue and Beauty may reclaim him Mrs. Beau. It may be so but I doubt he don't like Reforming Enter Sir so well as to try it Ha see who appears comely as rising day Charles amidst ten thousand eminently known Bellinda this Heroic is designed for you tho' somewhat barren of Invention I was forc'd to borrow it Bell. Chearful and thy mind at ease happy Girl Sir Charles taking Bell's hand My Blessing Beil My Fate which I shou'd but cannot curse Sir Char. Cousin I 'm glad to find you here you shall help perswade Bellinda to go abroad I have promised to bring you both to Mrs. Bantums I have provided a trifle of a Dinner and Excellent Musick for digestion there 's only a Country Gentleman and Sir Francis I
liv'd with me your English Friends must believe you dead Mr. Flyw. Well and what was my Return to all this boasted kindness You may remember Madam your Cargo was sunk so low 't would scarce afford at the next Ships approach another London Topping when I without a hated â—…ock for Life pour'd on ye more Riches than all your Husband-pretenders joyn'd together could aim at gave you such a separate Fortune that indeed I was forc'd to obey your Desires in coming into England lest you should do 't without my Leave Mrs. Flyw. Well well thou art a good Boy prithee no more wrangling Fubby I vow and swear to morrow I 'll be as great a Slattern as ever was if that will please you so I will Mr. Flyw. Ay and want to go out to day for all the gazing Fops to admire tho' I have told you I can't appear till I have enquir'd into my affairs then to morrow if you stay at home with me Sackcloth will serve turn Mrs. Flyw. Lord you are so froppish if I was your Wife sure Fubby you would not be so jealous Mr. Flyw. My Wife quotha no no I was once bewitch'd but I found such a Plague that No more Wives I say Mrs. Flyw. Well I 'll be any thing to please Fubby Will you go in Our Breakfast will be cold Exit Mrs. Flyw. Mr. Flyw. takes up the Letter I 'll follow you Ha! what 's here a Sonnet I 'll warrant her gaping abroad has brought this A Letter of her own only the Hand is scrawl'd to disguise it reads If I were convinc'd your Passion was real perhaps you might have no cause to complain fine advancing Devil be constant and discreet you ll find none of our Sex ungrateful By thy burning Lust that 's a damn'd Lye for thou art thy self a most ungrateful Jilt I 'll catch her now e're the Devil can be at her Elbow to invent a Lye and if one wheedling Tongue does not destroy all my Senses she shall feel my Rage Enter Servant Serv. Sir the Captain comes to bring you News your Ship is safe in the River Mr. Flyw. Be damn'd there let it sink Serv. Shall I tell him so Sir Exit Serv. Mr. Flyw. Jackanapes I 'll come to him Is it impossible in Nature to be happy with or without a Woman If they are virtuous they are peevish ill-natur'd proud and coy If fair and complaisant they please as well For then by Heav'n they are as false as Hell The End of the First ACT. ACT II. Enter Mrs. Flywife and Jenny Mrs. Flyw. HA ha ha I can't forbear laughing at your great concern Jenn. O madam if you did but see what a passion my master was in you would not be so merry he was like to beat the Sea Captain tho' he brought him the good news of his Ships arrival Mrs. Flyw. Pho mind what I say and fear not I warrant you shall have the Letter again and liberty to find Sir Francis Wildlove with it Jenn. Madam he comes Mrs. Flyw. Well well be sure you do it handsomly Sings Never never let her be your Wife That was loud that he might think me merry speak hussy Enter Flywife Jenn. crying Pray madam search again I have been a month of writing on 't and took it out of a Book too the man has sent me forty before I could make shift to answer one till now Oh! oh Mrs. Flyw. Prithee don't tease me I dropt it 't is gone I 'll write another for you since you say the man is for a Husband and can so well maintain you be quiet Mr. Flyw. What 's this faith not improbable 't is not my Damosels hand now I have consider'd on 't again Aside Jenn. I had rather have lost my best Peâ—…t coat by half Mrs. Flyw. Cease your noise or leave the Room Mr. Flyw. What 's the matter having no occasion for a Quarrel will be Money in my Pocket I am sure Aside Mrs. Flyw. Why Fubby this foolish Wench it seems has a Country Lover and begâ—…d of me to direct a Letter to him which in troth I have lost so she howls that 's all Fubby Mr. Flyw. And I have found it Come Jenny to make amends for your Sorâ—…ow I 'll write the Superscription Whither is it to go Jen. aside to her Mistris Madam Madam Mrs. Flyw. O I think I remember to Jeoffrey Scatterlove at the Bull-Inn in Caâ—…bridge so seal it and carry it for these silly Girls never think it safe unless they give it into the Post-house themselves but make haste Jen. Have I got thee again my dear sweet Letter kissing it Mrs. Flyw. A very raw foolish Girl this my Dear Mr. Flyw. Faith Puggy there had like to have bin a Quarrel I was almost afraid that Letter was a piece of Gallantry of yours Mrs. Flyw. Ay ay you are alwaies suspecting me when Heaven knows I am such a poor constant Fool I never so much as dream of any man but my own dear Fubby Fubby let I go Mr. Flyw. No no I 'll run away I won't hear you I won't hear you Exit Mrs. Flyw. Then I ll follow and I am sure prevail Oh had my Sex but half my Cunning the deceivers would find themselves deceiv'd from my Gallants I never found but gave 'em killing Charms Fools when we love our Liberties we lose But when belov'd with ease we pick and chuse Exit Enter Lady Beauclair and Cheatall La. Beauc. Brother I say you 're a Fool. Cheat. Fool in your Face I 'm no more a fool than your self What would you have a man do Must I ravish her Don't I know Accessories have bin hang'd and here you 'd have me Principal what I understand Law I won't hang for your pleasure La. Beauc. Yes you understand Law D' ye understand parting with a good Estate which you must do if you han't this Arabella Don't tell me of Ne Ne Necessaries I say you shall marry her Cheat. Ay but the Craft will be in catching as the Saying is why I went but e'en now to take her by the Lilly-white Hâ—…nd as the Poet hâ—…s it and she threw a whole dish of scalding-hot Tea full in my Face Dish and all Cousin Peggy saw her she call'd her all the names in Chrisâ—…ndom she 'll tell ye the same La. Beauc. Ah poor Peggy ay she don't â—…ove to see you abus'd were that Minks like Peggy you were but too happy Well when will you give Peggy that Diamond Necklace The Sparks are almost mad for her she has the Lord knows how many Sweethearts there 's Squire what d' ye call him Cheat. aside So now she 's got upon her Daughter's Sweethearts she 'll ne'er ha' done La. Beauc. There 's Sir John Empty and Mr. Flutter and Capt. Noisy say the finest things to her but the Wench is so coy and my Rogue of a Husband will let none of 'em come home to her but calls 'em Fops and Boars and the Lord knows